An End to the Fall
by Mikitsu Silverquick
Summary: I need to know that if something was to happen to me, that she is protected. So what is your answer, Dark Ace?" An origin story about the young Master Cyclonis and the people most loyal to her.
1. What goes around

Disclaimer: I do not own Storm Hawks or the characters, they belong to Nerd Corps Entertainment.

An End to the Fall

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"He alone, who owns the youth, gains the future."

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What should have been a trivial matter was turning into a headache – one that had dragged itself on for two years. It should be easy to see who was next for the succession of the Empire, the name Master Cyclonis, and a godly goal, but it was not, as Murre was discovering.

Murre was an older man reaching the unforgivable age of his mid-sixties. His skin was starting to crag, and liver spots were spreading across his skin like a disease. His once dark hair had turned ash coloured and was thinning at the temples. His hooked nose that had been thin and aristocratic looking in his youth now was thick at the bridge from age and crooked from being broken.

He had started the Cyclonian Empire at the crisp age of twenty; the thousands of Terras spread across Atmos had been under his command at the prime age of thirty. The years of his reign had run through his fingers like sand without a hitch, only hitting the occasional resistance that was smoothed over quickly and efficiently. He had started the groundwork for a new and better Atmos over the years, but he was slowly realizing that the precious work he had toiled into his dear Empire would fall to waste and would never take root unless he chose his heir carefully.

And that was where his problems had begun. He knew he was getting old, he could feel it in the creaks of his bones and in the stiffness of his joints – so he had started to gone through the task of selecting his heir when he knew he still had the time. Age had not been kind to him, there seemed to be a weakness of the heart that seemed to plague his family. He had been careful not to give his heart any trouble over the recent years, but still, his own father had dropped dead suddenly without warning because of a frail heart. If that was to happen to him, Master Cyclonis, without an heir, his plans would go to ruins and the Empire would fall away only to be picked apart by scavengers.

But the act of choosing an heir had to take care and thought: things that Murre had invested a lot of time to with this decision. After two years, there seemed to be little progress. Murre had three sons – Shrike, Ibis, and Crane – all possible candidates to certain extents.

Shrike was the eldest, being eighteen years of age and the most apparent heir. He was cunning, powerful and merciless, but he was not without his flaws. Shrike was reckless, sometimes careless, and given to blinding fits of rage. He lacked the cool, calculating traits needed.

Ibis was four years younger than Shrike and gave good reason to be a probable candidate for a future as Master Cyclonis. He was fearfully intelligent and calm and collected. He lacked the physical prowess, though, that Murre would have liked but he would have overlooked that it if it were not for the other garish flaws that Ibis possessed. Ibis lacked drive and ambition, preferring to write poetry and court pretty girls with his pretty words and pretty face. He had little interest in ruling an Empire, and had even admitted to that fact. The reasons for his dismissal as a candidate were obvious.

Finally, there was Crane, the least likely candidate. Firstly, being the tender age of ten years old, Crane was currently too young to even be considered technically (but Murre still had considered it). There was however, a more _glaring_ problem with his most recent child. Young Crane was a boy that had been pronounced handicapped both physically and mentally upon his birth. The boy could not focus his attention to any task at hand, was obsessive-compulsive about organization, tended to daydream, had a fierce love for reading and writing that would sometimes make him forget to eat, unfavourable to change, and also walked with a staggering limp. With a sweet and happy disposition his nurses overlooked Crane's disfigured form and loved his personality. Even heartless Murre held some affection for the boy, but could hardly count Crane as a suitable candidate as an heir, especially with how sweet the boy was. Which, Murre found to be a real shame, since his youngest was the only one of his sons to even show a little talent with Crystals. A talent that Murre knew was rare, and he himself being the only the known Crystal Master aside from the boy.

Most, considering the other two candidates, would have never wasted their time with contemplation and would have selected Shrike. Murre did not, and considered his time well spent, if frustrating. Shrike was an obvious choice – he had the power, the mind, and the drive. But he lacked the _right _ambition and the patience. Murre knew that if he was to give Shrike the name Master Cyclonis that greed and power would quickly spread through the boy's thoughts, turning him into a power mad monster. That went against everything Murre had built the Empire for. He knew that most of the Terras opposed the Empire's rule, seeing it as tyranny. As Murre saw it, it was necessary. The people of Atmos had to be led and shown another way, a better way. Another decade or so would cultivate fruit in the young minds of Atmos and Murre could imagine the realization in their minds that within the Empire that the united Atmos brought more good than evil (even considering the constraints). Eventually, the resistance would stop and peace would settle. Everything would work, like a well oiled machine.

Shrike, however, would ruin such things; he lacked finesse, using only his brawn for commanding. Murre had seen how the young man directed his squadrons – the men that were not cowed by Shrike balked at Shrike's command and were unruly and temperamental. In other words, they spread discord and bred discontent, leading to eventual disloyalty. He had taken Murre a great deal of work to unsow the seeds that had been sown in the ranks by his son. If this happened within the squadrons then Atmos would balk and being discontent as well, leading to the fall of the Empire.

Murre could see this, but what else were his options – a languid, pretty young man and a slow, sweet young boy? Master Cyclonis scoffed from his throne, the sound echoing emptily in the throne room. He was stuck; the only possible heir to Cyclonia would lead to its ruin, what a sickly paradox.

"Master Cyclonis?" A smart looking man wearing Cyclonian uniform called out from the sweeping entrance, waiting for acknowledgement.

"You may approach with your report, soldier."

The Cyclonian approached the rather terrifying seat of the Cyclonian King, bowing lowly before he gave the results of his mission.

"Master Cyclonis, we have succeeded in capturing the traitor, it was exactly as you suspected, sir. We have her in our custody outside. Do you wish for us to dispose of her ourselves or would you like to personally deal with it, sir?"

"Ahh, women are such silly creatures. If she hadn't run I'm sure no one would have noticed, don't you think so, soldier?" Master Cyclonis paused momentarily, but continued before the nameless soldier was able to comment, "Bring her in, I have a few … _delicate_ questions to ask her before I remove her from my services permanently. And make sure you bring _both _will you?"

Murre stood from his throne, heaving a thin staff of metal that had a cruel looking crystal caged at one end from its hidden cache inside the stone throne. As he engaged the staff -- a harsh light flickering in the crystal and the sound of humming -- a young woman with the rag-tag clothes of a commoner was dragged in by two burly looking soldiers. She was an average looking woman with shoulder length blue hair and could easily be called a plain looking – her only distinct feature being her blue eyes that sparkled with vibrancy. Off to the woman's left another soldier came in carrying a toddler that could be not more than two years of age inside several blankets.

Master Cyclonis inspected his murder weapon of choice as he spoke, "Glad you could join us, Sergeant Celeste. It's been what, two years since you left? Such a shame when you left, you were just days away from being promoted to Lieutenant. You were one of my best Talons, but you gave that up for what … motherhood?"

Murre believed himself to be a fair and just Emperor, but he expected certain rules to be upheld and followed. One thing that he considered permanent was being a Talon. Once a Talon, always a Talon. Your squad members were your family; you needed nothing more – no children, no significant other. The members of his Talons had needs, like any human being, and Murre cared less how they subdued those needs, inside or outside the Talons, they just were discouraged from any _permanent_ relationships. If you gained high enough rank, however, you could be granted the luxury of starting a family of your own, Murre knew he needed loyal future Talons. It was a system that relatively well enough. Murre thought he was being quite fair. The occasional woman and rare man in his Talons, however, found him anything but. They were made an example of, the severity of their punishment dependent on their kind of 'relationship' established and permanence.

A woman of any rank that aborted a pregnancy was given some leniency, but still given punishment usually consisting of loss of rank. A woman of normal rank getting pregnant by 'mistake' and carrying the child to term would have been stripped of her rank, had her child taken away from her to become a nameless servant of the Cyclonian palace, and the mother put to work in the mines.

The male members of Murre's Talons were, of course, subject to the same treatment, but paternal relationship was difficult to discern at the best of times, (unless the mothers were willing to point a finger) making punishment difficult. Some times the fathers went unpunished simply by lack of evidence or even a father's denial of his willingness in the 'accident'.

Celeste, a high ranking officer, had gotten herself pregnant and had hit the ground running, proving her intent on getting pregnant and keeping the child. This would result in the death of both her and the father. It was just a matter of discovering who the father was. The child would be given no name and therefore, no honour, and be forced to work in the palace – be it in the kitchens or scrubbing the floors. Murre thought it was a fair and just punishment.

Murre closed the distance between him and Celeste, the tip of his staff pressed to the thin skin under her chin.

"I do believe I asked you a question, Celeste. Has two years made you forget how to obey orders?" Murre pressed a small button on the staff: crystal energy leaked to the end that was pressed hard underneath Celeste's chin. Within two seconds Murre was granted the quiet sound of Celeste hissing through her teeth, her muscles shuddering and her jaw clenched – all in pain.

A nod from Murre and the soldiers let go of Celeste, who crumpled to her knees. She lay on her side, gasping for breathe and shuddering as her muscles twitched and spasmed from excruciating pain.

Another nod from Murre and the three soldiers made towards the exit, one with something in tow.

"Leave it," Murre said, his voice echoing through the large room, "I'll deal with the problem of them both."

A little hesitant, the soldier holding the toddler carefully put the sleeping tyke down making sure that it was still wrapped well in its swaddling clothes so it would not catch cold on the icy stone floors before leaving briskly.

Once alone, Murre crouched down next to Celeste, who was still hissing in pain. "You know where this is going, so how about we make this quick? You give me the name, and I'll make sure you both die quickly, with as little pain as I can muster."

Celeste, summoning the vestiges of her strength spat at her old Master's feet from her place on the floor. "Go to hell."

Master Cyclonis shrugged, as if he could care less, before he walked to the enfant on the floor.

He was instantly granted a reaction.

"You get away from her!" Celeste called from her place on the floor. She even attempted to stand before curling back into a ball from the pain.

"Do I hear contempt in your voice, my loyal Sergeant? Is that anyway to speak to your Master? I've been most gracious to you, but you are wearing away my patience," Master Cyclonis said softly, but his voice held the ringing echo that held malicious, dark tones.

Celeste inched a little closer -- as close as she dared -- to her old Master. "Please, I ask you only for only this one thing. I have been nothing but loyal to you for these many years. Please, Master Cyclonis, all I want to do is raise my daughter, please just give me that," Celeste pleaded.

A look of disgust curled across Murre's features. "How impudent you are! You simpering female, if you had been ever truly loyal to me, and _me_ alone, and not to your silly little motherly whims do you think you really would be in the mess you are now? For the past two years you should have been leading my armies to unite the Atmos, instead you have been dragged here to me, like a run away dog."

Celeste could not help but wince at the sound of Master Cylonis's voice with its eerie and frightening echo. The voice of an angry Master Cyclonis was an indicator of violence and death. Celeste desperately wanted to plead her case, but knew such an attempt would only lead to more pain, and she was in enough of it already.

"Now," Master Cyclonis said, the anger seeping out of his voice as he picked up the young toddler, "I do believe you owe me the father's name. I'll give you a few minutes to collect your thoughts on the matter."

Master Cyclonis looked at the young girl in his arms, instantly dismissing her as plain, just like her mother. The only distinct characteristics she seemed to possess were a small fleck of mole under the corner of one eye and cobalt blue hair. That was until she opened her eyes.

The young girl had the same beautiful eyes as her mother, but they seemed a tinge darker, as if they reflected the shadows in the room instead of the light. The two-year old held his gaze for a moment longer before turning to his staff and the brilliant crystal caged at one end.

"Ah, pretty!" The child exclaimed, pointing eagerly to the blood red crystal.

"So, you like my little toy do you?" Murre asked his voice soft and all deathly qualities bleached from it.

The child nodded eagerly, a smile spread wide across her chubby little face as she continued to reach for the 'pretty.'

Master Cyclonis obliged, easily flipping the end of the staff so the crystal hung inches above the girl's face, all the while cursing his soft spot for children. He supposed he could grant the child a little moment of happiness before he had to dish out the punishment due to her parent's foolishness.

He had not expected the passive glow of the crystal to spike at the child's touch, turning into a bright red beacon that almost blinded him and had the girl squealing with laughter.

Surprise was written across Master Cyclonis's face, while horrified shock spread across Celeste's. The toddler just giggled.

"I have to say Celeste that you have always provided me with the most interesting scenarios, even since your Academy days. Covering your commanding officer with tar and chicken feathers, putting Blazer Crystals in the ovens, and now you present me with an infant that has the potential to be a Crystal Master? Out of pure curiosity, does she inherit it from your side of the family or the father's?" Master Cyclonis asked devious interest clear in his voice.

Celeste answered with defeat in her voice. "Mine, my great-grandmother had the talent."

"Ah," was all that Master Cyclonis said, choosing to let silence pervade, except for the child's laughter when she made the crystal flare up.

But in Murre's mind, there was anything but silence. What had been presented to him was a gift from the gods, surely. All he needed to do was twist the facts to his liking, and he would finally have the heir that was needed for the Cyclonian throne that could be shaped.

"Celeste, if you wish for a painless death than I suggest you listen carefully. I am going to put you under torture, and you're going to tell me exactly what I tell you to. If you do exactly that I'll keep the torture short, and kill you swiftly."

"And my daughter?" Celeste whispered.

"I'll give her a life with purpose, more than anything you could ever could. Do you accept my terms?"

Accepting the inevitable Celeste said the only possible answer. "Yes."

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Murre bounced the recently orphaned child on his knee, her happy laughter making no indication that she was aware of her mother's disappearance, except when she cried occasionally at night. It had been already several weeks since Murre had dealt with Celeste, and the child had already stopped asking awkward questions about her mother's disappearance. In a few more years, when the finally vestiges of Celeste had faded in the child's memory, Murre could then present Cyclonia with its true heir. And no one would question her right to rule either. Celeste's had confessed, under torture, that she had stolen the child from one of Master's Cyclonis's many consorts, hoping to steal away the true heir of Cyclonia and bring the Empire to ruin.

There was just one last little loose end to tie up.

"Master Cyclonis, the Dark Ace has finally returned home from his mission and is waiting outside the door," a Cyclonian in regulation uniform reported from the throne room entrance.

Murre narrowed his eyes menacingly, displeasure written across his face. Master Cyclonis had a strong dislike for arrogance among his soldiers; especially when it came to them giving themselves pretentious names, like the Dark Ace. "Send _Brine_ in if you will, soldier."

A man in his very early twenties walked in with princely arrogance at the mention of his name. The face was ordinary enough, made of sharp angles and strong features that added a feral ferocity to it. Dark hair fell in the young man's blood red eyes, and he had the thin but muscled build common to most of Master Cyclonis's Talons, except there was a distinct sense of dangerous poise in the way Brine walked. He was one of Master Cyclonis's most lethal weapon against any resistance, being brutal and shrewd when completing his missions. Brine, being strong of body and strong of mind, was easily climbing the ranks, despite his young age, and already gaining a name for himself – the Dark Ace. He was Master Cyclonis's most powerful assets, but that did not necessarily make him the most loyal. Murre was going to change that, though.

Unnaturally good natured, Murre asked, "Ah, Brine, how did your mission go? Do you have those so-called 'Sky Knights' shivering in their slums on their pitiful Terras, yet?"

"I doubt they'll cause you too much problems, sir. They're really nothing more than a bunch of amateurs who think themselves as heroes," Brine answered, cautious of the friendly tone in his Master's voice, and also a little at odds at how to react at the bubbly child on the old man's knee. That certainly had not been there when he had left for his mission a few weeks ago. The child was also strangely familiar.

"That's good," Murre thought aloud. The 'Sky Knights' had been a bit of a problem when Murre had started the expansion of his Empire, but he sometimes wondered if he overestimated them. The Sky Knights were the only consistent form of resistance to the Empire, but they were truly nothing more than brutes that had been first enlisted to protect their home Terras from other neighbouring Terras. They had been disorganized, but skilled. Had all the Sky Knights across the Atmos banded together early on in Murre's career he admitted he would probably still grappling for control over more than a handful of Terras. Thankfully, each Terra prided in itself; boasting how their culture was better, their warriors stronger, and the like. It was such pride that had made the many Terras fall under his control, as they seeked no alliances with their neighbours.

Murre surfaced from his thoughts. "Well, I expect a full written report. Details are key."

Brine bowed before his master, and turned to leave, thinking he had done all that was required of him by his master. He hardly realized how close he came to death for such an impudent action.

"Brine, where do you think you're going?" Master Cylonis asked, the hollow echo in his voice, adding a deathly note to the old man's voice.

Brine instantly realized his mistake – leaving before being dismissed – and visibly winced while his mind grasped at an explanation. He had gotten used to getting away with it most of the time with his superior officers – they just saw a rising star among the Talons.

Brine turned, seeing that his master had a strained grin tugging at the corners of Master Cyclonis's mouth, while his eyes glinted violently. Murre beckoned with a finger for Brine to come before him.

Numbly, Brine knelt as low as he could before his master's throne, deciding that it was never too late to suck up.

"Lilith …" Brine dared raise his head a few inches at the sound of Master Cyclonis's voice. His master was talking to the young girl on his knee.

"I'm _Lark_, not Lilith," the child corrected, a sound of stress in her little voice. It appeared to be a common argument that she seemed to be losing.

"_Lilith_," Murre said firmly, "why don't you go ask your nurse to let you play with Crane for a little while? I have some work to do."

Brine did not like the sound of that.

"Hmph, I don't wanna," Lilith sulked, her features frowning.

"Then you'll spend your time alone, in your room," Murre said, nodding at a nearby Cyclonian to take the young girl from him.

"Fine, I'll play with Crane," Lilith sulked again, letting herself be led away, but she still stuck out her tongue at Murre when she thought he wasn't looking.

After Lilith and her escort left, Brine and Master Cyclonis were left alone in the echoing chamber. The only sound being the drumming sound of Murre's tapping fingers. Brine sweated nervously, feeling his muscles cramp from his kneeling position.

"I'm curious, Brine, how are you dealing with Celeste's betrayal of the Empire? I heard that you both were once quite close; I think some even considered you her protégé, especially when you first were initiated into my Talons. If I remember correctly, she was the one who convinced you of the power of my cause," Murre pondered aloud, watching Brine closely.

Brine controlled the urge to twitch. He had heard the rumours, but nothing concrete, while he was away from Cyclonia. He had hoped to hell that Celeste had stayed missing. Since Celeste's disappearance two years ago he had done his best to eradicate any and all associations he had once had with her. He had a very good reason to hide his old association, and he just prayed this was not the day Celeste's foolishness was going to bite him the ass.

"Yes, she was the one who recruited me, and was responsible for most of training as a Talon. She had her work cut out for her, though, as I was already a recognized Sky Knight on my home Terra. Until most recently I thought she was the prime example of a Talon, but now knowing what a disgusting traitor she is I am filled with shame." Brine did his best to make sure he paced himself, not rushing through his words; an attempt to make it not sound rehearsed, like it did in his head.

"Ah, here I was under the impression you were both much closer than that – I was sure you both were lovers, up until her appearance, that is."

Brine could practically hear the grin in Master Cyclonis's voice. There was no way he should know so much, it was impossible, he had hid is tracks so carefully. The first waves of panic were starting to well up in his chest as he realized he was slowly becoming trapped in words; adrenaline was being pumped into his blood and made him want to take off running from the room (fighting would be suicidal, despite his master's age).

"She was significantly older than me, sir."

"And I've always been significantly older than my previous consorts; is there a point to this argument or are you just evading the answer, Brine?"

Brine visibly flinched; a harsh tone was creeping into Cyclonis's voice that was hinting at violence. "Yes, were we lovers, up until she disappeared."

"Hmm … did she ever speak to you about leaving, or explain why she would?" Muure asked, easily putting a bored curiosity in his voice that always made his victims sweat under the verbal assault. It had such a disarming effect, like broken glass among the dew covered grass.

Brine lied. "No. I have no idea why she left, or would leave. I was horrified to learn that she kidnapped your consort's child."

"Then it would come to a complete shock to you if I was to tell you that Celeste left my Talons because she was pregnant, obviously something she and the father would have been punished for. Now if one was to consider this information, then they could easily conclude another shocking piece of information; that my consort's 'child' actually could be Celeste's. Another shocking piece of information – I'm not the father of Lilith."

Murre stood from his throne and walked to the knelt figure of Brine and giving him a slight nod before pacing.

"Now, Brine, I'm sure you can see the predicament I am in. I wish to name Lilith, as young as she is, as my successor – my heir. Her validity, however, could come to question if her true parentage was ever discovered. No one knows that Lilith is not my child except for myself, the now deceased Celeste and one other person. The father."

Brine felt the icy cold hand of death rest at the back of his neck, or, rather, the icy cold hand of Master Cyclonis fall on the back of his neck, fingers curled around his throat. One could easily confuse the two.

"What makes you think the father knows about his child?" Brine asked, trying to keep the fear out his voice. He hoped to the gods that his master could not see the way he shook, or hear his voice crack.

"Celeste had interesting priorities. She would have informed the father, that I am sure of," Master Cyclonis dryly commented, squeezing at the tender muscles that were cording at the back of Brine's neck.

Murre knew he had Brine exactly where he wanted him. Murre was being truthful about Celeste's strange sense of priorities – she had no problem committing the most heinous crimes but when it came to sleeping with two men at the same time, well it just did not happen, not with Celeste's sense of morals. Master Cyclonis found that all women believed there was supposed to be a certain amount of honesty and intimacy with someone who were sleeping with (annoying was what he found it) and Celeste was no exception. She had probably created the whole moral code of it.

Really, it almost unnecessary to play the whole scene out like he had, but Murre thought it time that the 'Dark Ace' was knocked down a few notches. Murre refused to have such arrogance that Brine had been accustomed to in his soldiers – arrogance lead to mistakes, and Murre could not afford those. Besides, watching another person cower at the very simple conjuring of words reminded Murre of the good old days, like terrifying the leaders of many Terras into an alliance with Cyclonia. Good times, those days.

Murre squeezed at Brine's neck once more, strengthening the veiled threat in his voice. "Now, I'm quite sure Celeste informed you about certain Talon regulations, but perhaps she didn't, seeing how easily she forgot them. Well, let's just say that Celeste is an example, a very good example, of what could happen to you, Brine. However there might be one thing that might dissuade me …"

Like all human beings clinging to life Brine grasped at the life line thrown to him. "And what would that be, sir?"

Master Cyclonis moved in front of Brine again, towering over him. "You're smart, Brine, as you've probably already figured out that there is likely going to opposition to my new heir, Shrike being the main problem. I need to know that if something was to happen to me, say … a fatal accident … that Lilith is protected by a select group of people who have no interest in furthering their own goals, and are loyal to her and only her; someone who will guard the most precious secret of hers, for if her true lineage was realized, he too will also die. Finding such people is hard, but I think I've found one. So what is your answer, Dark Ace? Do you choose death by my hand and likely the eventual death of your own daughter, or do you choose to serve the Cyclonian heir, and guarantee her safety as long as you live?"

Brine looked at Master Cyclonis, and Murre could already see the answer there. Murre knew what the answer would be; he had the minute he had planned to name Lilith as his heir.

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Author's Note:

I was slightly inspired by a much better origin story from "From The Ashes" by Malarkay. Really good story, I suggest you read it, soooo much better than this little oneshot. Her story puts mine to shame, when I think about it; however, I wrote this lil' oneshot just to get my POV out there, and maybe to encourage some other people to write (Storm Hawks needs more love).

Also, anyone who can guess who said the little quote up at the top gets an imaginary cookie. I think you'll be unsuprised how well it fits. Speaking of how well something fits – I suggest you wikipedia the terms Shrike, and Lilith … these were names that just really popped up in my head, but they REALLY suit -- frightening well I find.


	2. Sisterhood: Introductions

Sisterhood

Talented. Driven. Beautiful. Spiteful. Brilliant. Young.

These words and more summed up one of the more promising soldiers in Master Cyclonis's campaign for change. Ravess was a the kind of person that was used as the perfect exemplar of what a Cyclonian should strive for. It was a position that Ravess loved, greedily soaking up the attention, the compliments, the whole of it, until she practically was glowing from it. There was a sense of superiority that was secured in oneself when one knew they were the best of the best.

The best of the best also happened to be a very cheap drunk that had a vicious and quick temper.

But that had been last night, and the night before, and even the night before that. And now, she was paying for it: apparently Master Cyclonis did not appreciate it when his soldiers were hungover during targeting practice. It really wasn't her fault that she had hit her instructor with a crystal-tipped arrow in the backside – it was his fault for standing ten feet to the left of her target.

But, of course, who got blamed and punished? She did, meanwhile her instructor with the arrow in the butt got to laze around in the infirmary complaining. Personally, she thought he was exaggerating a bit – no way could it hurt as much as he said it did, and all the blood? He definitely suffered from hemophilia.

The man whined a little too much for a Cyclonian in her opinion, but she really wasn't in the position to state such assessments. She was too busy getting a lecture from Master Cyclonis himself (lucky, lucky her). She wished that she could just get it done and over with -- her hangover was doing such wretched business in her skull -- but no. Cyclonis just had to go on and on, and he was talking in that serious voice. The voice that had that interrupt-me-and-I-will-smite-thee kind of sound, with the occasional eerie echo that made her skin crawl. How her Master could do that was just beyond her – it had to be the acoustics of the throne room or something along that lines, it was just not natural. 

"Ravess, are you listening? Do you understand the depth of trouble you're in?" Cyclonis's voice rang out, making her head hurt just a smidget more.

No, she hadn't been listening to the lecturing tirade, not in the slightest. She knew what he was going to say – it was something like 'you're ruining your career' or 'you'll get nowhere with your behaviour' when it was watered down. She knew because Snipe had been harping on her about the same stuff for nearly two weeks. He had been giving her those damn puppy eyes and had switched between arguing and pleading. She told him to buzz off, mind his own business, silently saying to herself that it was the only possible way she could really grieve. 

But, she really couldn't say that, even if she were to condense it. She could imagine the quick flash of anger in Cyclonis eyes right before he blasted her into little bits. It was better to go for a little white lie, less exploding that way. "Yes, sir, I've been listening very carefully. May I be dismissed? I think I should practice my archery a little more, if you'll allow it." 

She was being cheeky – she knew it, and Master Cyclonis knew it. Only difference was that one of them didn't give a damn. 

"You're dismissed, and remember who you are and who you represent. I expect to see improvements."

Ravess bowed quickly and made for the door as quickly, but politely, as humanely possible. She had seen the flash of anger in her old Master's eyes, and it made goose bumps run up and down her skin. She could practically feel his eyes boring into her back. She was starting to regret her earlier remark. She probably wasn't done paying for it either, if Master Cyclonis had his way. Oh well, the alcohol she had stashed her bunk should keep her mind off it.

That little bit of stashed pleasure seemed to be a bit tainted now, after all the lecturing she had suffered through. She also hated seeing her lummox of a brother give her those confused looks. He knew she was hurting, but being the idiot he was he was too dense to see why. She was surprised no one had called her on it: was it that hard to connect the dots?

Ravess felt herself trip over something, but just assumed she caught her foot on the edge of a piece of flagstone. That was until she heard a small voice speak up.

"Hey! You almost stepped on me!"

The violinist looked around, before drawing her attention downward.

She blinked; making sure her eyes weren't deceiving her.

There was a little girl standing in front of her around the age of two or three or so, with limp cobalt-black hair that was cropped to her shoulders and brilliant blue eyes that reminded her of someone. In fact, those blue eyes painfully reminded of her someone, so much so that she could feel the tears pricking at the corner of her eyes.

"Hey, lady, are you alright? Why are your eyes all shiny?" The little girl's voice was high and soft; the epitome of innocence.

It was a voice that jarred her out of her memories, the softness completely different than the chocolaty smoothness she associated with a brilliant pair of blue eyes.

"It's nothing," Ravess said, crouching down to the child's eye level, giving the young individual a critical look over as she did so. The child had the plumpness of a little girl her age, and seemed well enough (if her nice clothes were any indicator) except for the occasional soot-smear and tear. It looked like someone had been playing a fireplace hearth by herself. Her eyes were a little puffy and red also, as if she had been crying earlier.

"Now," the archer said softly, doing her best to sound soothing (something completely out of character for her), "What are you doing all by yourself?" _And who on Atmos are you?_ She wanted to know, but held off, she'd find out in time.

"I was playing with Crane, but then he cheated at the game and I said I'm not playing if he was going to cheat. He got mad at me, and told to me to go away, so I did. I'm not supposed to be myself though, Father is going to be mad when he finds out," the little girl responded, with the occasional sniffle. It seemed to be terrified of incurring her father's wrath.

A light bulb went off in Ravess's head; the girl was one of the Crane's playmates. The archer had heard rumours about how the boy was supposed to get to have a friend his own age, since he was surrounded by cranky old ladies, but a girl this young? One of the lords from one of the more prominent terras must have been feeling desperate to send off their daughter this young. And she _knew_ that the girl likely had some important family ties somewhere; Master Cyclonis was not one to let his sons affiliate themselves with riffraff (Crane had gotten a smart talking to when he had attempted to initiate a game of tag with one of the nameless servants), and those nice clothes had to come from somewhere. The only other people dressed as nicely as the young girl were Cyclonis's own children.

It also meant someone was likely to be worrying their head off about the little tyke; she could twist this to her advantage. All she would have to do would be to wait patiently until the point where someone was near hysterics, and then present the child. It'd get her out of hot water with Master Cyclonis if she was to 'find' the lost playmate to his _precious _son, and she'd be able to finally get some joyous sadism out of it as well.

"Lilith? What are you doing here, you know you're not allowed to wander by yourself," a male voice said behind Ravess. Crap, someone _just _had to ruin her plan!

A hesitant smile quirked on the child's face, "I'm sorry, Dark Ace, but it's Crane's fault! I won't play if he cheats!"

Ravess's eyes went wide, and she twisted her head so quickly she felt a nerve in her neck pinch; it figured her most hated rival decided to conveniently show up, but still, maybe there was still a way to come out with some good grace.

Plastering a fake smile and hitching her voice to a level that _almost_ sound enthused, Ravess prepared to face the person she hated most. "Dark Ace! How are you, sir, on this fine evening?" Ravess felt something in her scream and die from the glass-breaking cheerfulness in her voice.

A thick eyebrow shot up, giving a perplexed look to the young man's pale face. "Ravess, I'm fine, but you should get yourself looked after. You seem a little ... off. I'm sure Master Cyclonis doesn't want a repeat of this morning's practice disaster."

The archer twitched; she had a suspicion that the Dark Ace's concern was just a poor disguised attempt to take a jab at her. Together, they were worse than a pair of skysharks when there was the smell of carnage in the air; completely vicious, not to mention ruthless, when it came to slightest disagreement. Ravess absolutely abhorred the man, hating every little fiber of his being. The Dark Ace, she suspected, only held annoyed contempt for her (which was nothing compared to her blinding hatred towards him). Even way back when he had just freshly converted over to the Empire she had despised him.

It merely had started as simple digusted mistrust; how anyone could trust someone when they had been trained and raised as a Sky Knight she'd never know (there was also the fact that he had betrayed _very_ sensitive information about the Sky Knights resistance – once a betrayer, always a betrayer in her book). The dribble about everyone deserving second chances and seeing their errors in their ways was such a Celeste thing believe, and the woman had given Brine (or The Dark Ace he pompously was starting to be called nowadays) enough of those chances, more than the bastard had deserved. So her distrust had slowly developed into bitter, angry, rageful jealousy and it just grew from there.

Celeste's death had only concreted her hatred for Dark Ace. She blamed him for it, despite how illogical the thought was; Celeste had gone A-Wall, had been found, and then had been punished swiftly and severely. All of which had not settled with Ravess very well, not at all. There had to be a good reason why Celeste just up and left; she loved being a Talon, only a good reason would make her leave.

But that was then, and this was now. And the now required some quick thinking on Ravess's part; should she just slink away to fight another day or attempt a battle of wits with her adversary. Common sense told her that the hungover headache would more hindrance than help, dulling her intellect. Sadly, Ravess found common sense all to rarely, a disastrous trait her brother, Snipe, and her shared. She was going to push her luck a little more today, just to see the Dark Ace lose that smug look on his arrogant face.

"Well, thank you _so_ much for the concern, Dark Ace. Maybe you'd be kind enough to help to with my archery practice?" Ravess smiled like a viper.

"I think I'll pass, I really don't want to land up like Lt. What's-his-face. Besides, I have to escort Lilith back to chambers," at the mention of her name, the little girl looked a little ashamed, "she's not permitted to wander around. So, I'm quite busy, you understand. Perhaps I'll find time when you're aim has improved, then again, maybe not."

It took a great deal of control not to let the glower inside her slip across her features – if she wanted to catch him off guard she had to aloof, and emotionless.

"Oh, I perfectly understand. What could be more important for a prestigious person, such as yourself, than to babysit a child. Master Cyclonis must _really_ hold you in such high regards to put you in such an _important_ position of authority. I must say, I'm _almost _jealous." The violinist could feel a smirk curl in the corner of her mouth when she saw the slight twitch in Dark Ace's left eye – a sure sign that he was getting aggravated.

But instead of a sharp-tongued retort, a Cheshire grin slipped across his face after the shock had vacated, "You're not nearly as jealous as you should be. Come on, Lilith, time for your studies."

The Dark Ace sauntered off with little Lilith in tow, but long after they left Ravess was still standing there wondering what the hell was screwed with the Dark Ace. If that was the kind of _lame_ comeback that he came up with he must be drinking more than her, or he had finally lost it – she always thought he was a little unstable, readying to snap at a moments notice. Seemed it had finally happened, she was just disappointed she hadn't been the cause.


	3. Sisterhood: Arguments

Sisterhood pt.2

Ravess sat with her favourite drink (hurray for absinthe) at her favourite dingy bar, just a couple of Klicks conveniently west of Cyclonia. The place was really nothing more than a creaking fire hazard, but a popular enough place for the dregs of society. It was the kind of place where you get yourself nice and plastered, and not have to worry anyone snitching you out – a big deal for those in service to Master Cyclonis, especially since alcohol was prohibited to his officers.

As irony would have it, the run-down establishment's best customers were usually those employed by Cyclonia; Ravess had started coming to the place pretty much since her enrollment, but it had mostly been for celebrating with one of the best drinking partners, her teacher and confidant Celeste, until recently. Now it was just mostly a place to reminisce and sink into self-destruction in her own privacy. Mostly, she was left alone, except for tonight, when the damn bartender decided to recognize her.

The woman, Maylee, had to be in her forties, with cropped-short strawberry-blonde hair that was streaked with silver, covered head to toe in freckles, and had a gap in her front teeth. She had an outgoing personality (but, what good bartender didn't?), and probably been a little more popular with the men in her younger days. Her and her cousin had been working at the place for god knew how long, probably since their teens (and long before Ravess had become a Talon), but Maylee preferred to be working in the kitchen than serving drinks, that was more her cousin thing. But her cousin, Jaylee (who looked like a younger twin to Maylee than an actual cousin) had just recently gotten hitched and was taking time off for the honeymoon. It seemed like Maylee was picking up the slack (just Ravess's luck).

Maylee and Celeste had been good friends and business partners – provided Celeste got something for looking the other way when something was smuggled through the bar or sold illegally, either free drinks for a few weeks or a cut from the money made was the standard price for her silence. As much as Ravess wanted to believe Celeste had died free from any moral sin, it was unlikely; the woman only appeared angelic. Not that it really mattered now, it was just going to be incredibly awkward with Maylee since it was physically impossible for the woman to mind her own business.

"Well, hey there, sugar. Where's that guardian angel of yours, Celeste? She too busy with that Brine of hers to drop by and keep a lovely thing like you company?" Maylee said casually in her usual friendly tone while she cleaned a glass.

Ravess made a non-committal noise and downed the rest of her drink, twinging a little from the bitterness of the absinthe.

Maylee eyed the pile of empty glasses that were accumulating, six in total now, next to Ravesss. "Yer certainly sucking 'em back, sugar. Don't y'all think you should slow down a lil'? You Talons have early mornings ya know."

Ravess made another noncommittal noise, and ordered another absinthe.

Reluctantly, Maylee slide another one of the cloudy drinks down, but not before asking, "Y'all okay, sugar? Yer pretty quiet fer some reason, not trouble in the roost is there? You and Celeste didn't have a fight or nothing, did ya? Jaylee's been saying that she don't see Celeste no more, not even Brine, and yer always coming in by yerself. If ya ask me, something don't seem right."

Ravess just shrugged and sipped away at her drink, keeping eyes on the table to keep her thoughts hidden – people sometimes wondered if Maylee could read a person's thoughts just by looking at their eyes -- better safe than sorry.

"Ah," Maylee said, as if Ravess's silence had provided a hidden clue and continued to clean several glasses with a cloth.

Ravess bitterly wished the woman would go away and attend to another customer, but it was late and the bar was almost empty with the last few patrons finishing their drinks before they went home. Pretty soon Ravess would be the only one left, and would be the sole victim of Maylee's pestering. She really didn't want to leave early, it would put such a kink in her get-totally-smashed-out-her-mind-like-every-other-day-of-the-week plan.

Out of the corner of her eye, Ravess noticed Maylee go around the other side of the bar and sit on the rickety barstool next to her, with a bottle of beer in hand.

"Yer know, I've been hearing a nasty lil' rumour floating around. A week back, one of the Talon cap'ns said something awful about how a young Talon was killed fer treason, one that sounded a lot like Celeste. You wouldn't know nothing about that about, now would you, Ravess?"

The red-head did her best to hide the rising pain that clenched in her stomach, and she thought she had done a good job, until she heard Maylee gasp and mutter about how she couldn't believe it and how sorry she was. Ravess wasn't sure if she should be relieved or upset that _finally_ someone realized that there was something wrong with her life, and that something had been the death of Celeste.

The sudden wave of grief had her staring glassy-eyed into cloudy depths of her drink that she didn't notice Maylee pull out a large bottle of whiskey from behind the counter, until she slammed it down next her.

"When the last of them customers leave, you and me are going to give Celeste the proper send off by gettin' ourselves nice and drunk, though you've got a bit of a head start, don't ya?"

Maylee had a large smirk on her face that Ravess didn't like, but the violinist just couldn't help but smile weakly in return.

Ravess stared at the twilight sky -- her limbs tingly and warm from the alcohol despite the sub-zero temperatures. Spread-eagled on her back next to Ravess was Maylee, who was just as drunk as she was. Somehow they had gotten on to the roof of the tavern, but Ravess couldn't remember how or when they did, she was so drunk she wasn't even sure if she really was on the roof. All she knew for certain was that the stars were so pretty and gorgeous with the velvet black of the sky, the mist from her breath catching the starlight.

"Ya know ... back when I was just a cadet, Celeste used to take me out on soooo many recon missions with her. It was nothin' too important, but we always camped out underneath the stars, just to give me a taste of what it really like. Celeste always made things better."

Ravess felt the words slur and slide over her tongue slowly, as if they were oozing out of her. It was almost ... _tingly._

"Aye, that she did. She could get the most cranky ol' drunks laughing with just a smile and word. She was a good ol' lady. But ya should've seen her with children. She had just a knack with the wee ones, could get any lil' baby to stop crying. Shame she didn't become a mother," Maylee whispered, her voice hoarse from the fiery whiskey.

Ravess shook her head with a laugh, "She couldn't be a mom even if she wanted kids! Talons ain't _allowed _children. It's a rule."

Maylee turned to Ravess with a knowing smile, "Since when did rules or reason ever stop Celeste from gettin' what she wanted?"

Ravess snorted derisively, "Oh? Like what?"

"Well ... that Brine for one thing. She got herself smitten with him one night, even though he's _half_ her age! But not only does she practically seduce the boy, but convinces him to join the Talons! And just because she couldn't stand the purple-haired lil' daughter of a Sky Knight brat that was Brine's sweetheart, so she steals him right from under her! Them Sky Knights have poor will if they just let their men walk off like that, not like a Talon, eh? A Talon just takes what they wants, eh? And don't forget, she easily convinced you to drop what you were doing in Terra Amazonia and join up wit' them Talons, and yer brother came along! Two for one, ha! So don't go tellin' _me_ Celeste never got nothing she didn't want, ya know it's true."

Ravess just stared at the sky, feeling the edges of her drunken bliss turn bitter with hatred for Brine. She never knew what Celeste had seen in the scrawny eighteen year-old brat that had been Brine several years ago – was it just pure dislike of the violet-haired Sky Knight's daughter or had she seen the arrogance of the future Dark Ace fighting in a weak, pathetic boy who was destined to a be a Sky Knight, a loser in the battle. Had it been pity, or lust, or just greed?

What ever it was Brine had taken the place in Celeste's heart and bed that she, Ravess, had coveted for years. The bastard never deserved Celeste's love or attention. He was weak, spineless, a boy who was pining for his dead mother and sister when Celeste had found him. Celeste had built him up, gave him a backbone, put some pride in him: he would still be some deluded Sky Knight's simpering little bitch if Celeste hadn't come along.

And what thanks did Celeste get from her lover and protégé? Nothing, not even a tear when she died. The bastard was too busy enjoying his promotion, and his new name – _the Dark Ace_. What kind of stupid name was that? It was just sooo pompous. Brine didn't deserve anything, the slime didn't even deserve to breathe oxygen.

Ravess could feel enraged heat infuse her limbs, warming her against the freezing air. Felt it well up and dive into her stomach, where it twisted – painfully – making her mouth water and her stomach heave.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Ravess croaked, feeling the bile in her throat. She couldn't remember much after that.

When Ravess awoke she had no idea where the hell she was. It was familiar, or, at least, she thought it was – her head hurt too much for her to really concentrate that much. But from what she could see, when she bothered to open her eyes, was white – sterile white. She hoped to God she wasn't in a hospital. She hated hospitals, hated them a with a fiery-burning passion.

She rolled over to side, feeling a dull ache in her head and a sharp twist in her gut as she did so (she was going to swear off the booze, this time was the last time, but then, she had told herself that last time too, and look where she was). The languid effects of her hangover helped her quickly evaluate the bed she was sleeping on – very soft, and very comfy, just about right for sleeping on if you had a hangover. Having woken up in hospitals on numerous occasions before, she knew for a fact that the beds there were not comfy in the slightest.

Meaning .. she wasn't in a hospital! One point for Ravess! It also meant she hadn't almost killed herself by falling off the roof, or tripping over a Gleep (it had happened before though, it was something she tried vainly to forget). Two points Ravess, hangover zero! It still left the question as to where she was, but if she wasn't in a hospital, she really didn't care, not even if she was in some complete stranger's bed (and given the situation, most likely). She'd deal with that all later when was less hung over. Until then, she'd cuddle up to one of those nice n' fluffy pillows and just sleeeeeeeep ...

"You are a complete and utter idiot, you do realize that, Ravess?"

The voice cut through to the quick of Ravess's drowsiness; it was a voice she hated and despised. She didn't even need to look to ascertain her assumption – only one person she knew of was capable of such disgusting oily tones in his voice.

Rolling away from the sound of the voice, Ravess smothered her face in a pillow (finally placing the sharp, familiarly-hated scent of oakmoss). "Oh, please dear _God_ don't tell me I was so drunk that I actually let myself sleep with you. Because if I did, I'm going to be sick, really, _really,_ sick."

"Get over yourself, Ravess, I wouldn't degrade myself by sleeping with you."

Her rage inflamed by the comment, Ravess turned towards the sound of the voice, fully intending to give one of her infamous glares from hell, but the Dark Ace was by the window with the light streaming in behind him, turning him into a silhouette with burning edges of light – it was far too much for her sensitive, bloodshot eyes. Instead, she just settled for looking at the ceiling, and making an offhand, but perfectly calculated, retort.

"Thank God for small mercies, who knew I would be saved by your sudden development in _standards_. Hmm, you with standards, actual morality, that's funny. I should tell that to Snipe, he'd laugh his ass off. Don't you think so, _Dark Ace_?"

The man in question made no indication that he had heard of cared; he chose to remain by his place by the window, backlit by the light. Feeling the creeping nausea of her hangover, Ravess chose to stay laying on her back as she was. As much as she despised Brine, he had remarkably good tastes when it came to picking a nice, soft bed. She had no intentions of moving, if Brine wanted her gone he was going to have to physically remove her (it was his fault anyways for first, getting such a nice bed, and secondly, for putting her hangover/drunk self into it; as far was she was concerned it was his problem -- not hers -- if she chose not to vacate the premises).

Staring up at the ceiling in a hangover haze, Ravess wasn't sure how long she lay there (a problem that was occurring with increasing regularity she was beginning to notice), but it was nice. Sure, getting so drunk that she was practically numb to everything was great, but the pains of a hangover had great benefits too – the waves of aching pain in her skull, the gnawing fire that twisted in her stomach, how torpid her limbs were; it blocked out the pain of grief, but still gave her enough sobriety to think and contemplate, even matters concerning Celeste. The little masochist in her also found it suitable as well.

"Do you plan on staying in my bed all day?" Dark Ace asked, his voice dry with loathing.

In a rare moment of truthful, Ravess replied, "I just think I might. And don't look so disgusted, if you didn't want me in your bed in the first place you shouldn't have put me in it -- simple as that."

The Dark Ace growled, "It's not like there was much option. Do you want to even know where I found you last night?"

From her comfortable position on the bed Ravess continued to be blunt and truthful (her exhaustion almost making her forget to even use her characteristic veiled sarcasm), "Not really, but you're going to tell me anyways aren't you?"

By the window, the archer heard her rival snort in disgust. "You were passed out on the roof of that dingy tavern you like to frequent, with that stupid barmaid wench. Might have been a cozy scene if you both didn't smell like vomit."

"And yet you dragged my unconscious ass all the way back to Cyclonia. Well no one asked you to go looking for me, I know I sure in hell didn't. Hell, you should have left me there on the roof." Ravess was getting bored with this kind of conversation. Seriously, she had no interest in being lectured, and certainly not by someone that she detested (it was all-in-all a little too humiliating, and childish).

"Ah, but there you're wrong, you stupid bitch. As much as I would have _loved _to have not been looking for you at four in the morning, and would have _thoroughly_ enjoyed your expulsion from the Talons I made a ... uh..._ pact _with someone to make sure that did not come to pass."

Ravess scowled in disgust. "You don't really think I'm going to _believe_ that rubbish do you? You, keep a pact? Ha! Please, don't make me laugh, my stomach isn't up to it at the moment. I think you're just trying to suave, but in reality my brother probably just bullied you into searching for me since he knows I'll kill him if he interferes with my affairs. Come on, just admit it."

From several feet away she could hear the Dark Ace growl lowly, and softly – it was more like a fierce exhale of breathe. She was getting close to making him snap, a little more prodding and he's lash out in anger and drop that stupid façade. Oh, how she had missed this.

" No, it's not your lummox for a brother, as if he could make _me _do anything, and, no, I'm not telling you who it is, so don't even try to wheedle the answer out of me. I think you've sobered enough, so get out." The Dark Ace spit out his words, his usually well controlled anger showing through in his voice. His position at the window had gone from relaxed to rigid.

Sighing from the foolishness of it all, Ravess just stayed where she was. "I don't think so. See, if I move, I'll get nauseated, and then I'll throw up. I really don't want to do that, and I'm sure you don't want that either, so I'm just going to stay here and bug you some more. You're so interesting when you're angry."

Smiling from the bed, the archer knew that the Dark Ace was fighting with what she had said. She loved her sense of logic, it always was difficult to argue against. It also had a nice habit of having people crawl up the wall in aggravation over it. Ravess could practically feel her rival seething over by the window as a result.

Out of the corner of her bleary, bloodshot eye, she noticed a small white envelope sticking out from a wooden box. Now that was interesting, who would send Brine a letter. At the window, the Dark Ace stiffened when he noticed what direction Ravess was looking.

" I don't have time for your games, Ravess. Now, leave, before I throw you out." The Dark Ace's voice had gotten darker, and Ravess could detect a certain sense of anxiety from it. As if he was worried about something, but what could _possibly_ make the great and powerful and pompous Dark Ace worried? The violinist had a desperate desire to discover what it was.

Thinking it was time to up the ante a little, Ravess decided to try and force the Dark Ace into action, and maybe reveal a weakness she could exploit. "Hmm, I think I'm going to call your bluff, you won't dare lay a hand on me. Besides, this bed is far to comfortable, who knew you had such good choices in mattresses? And oh, you sent you that letter?"

Ravess knew the instant that she felt the thin fingers belonging to the Dark Ace scrape at the back of her neck in a bruising grip that there was good chance she had underestimated the extent of her rival's rage – he must have gotten better at hiding his anger while she was busy getting herself drunk for the past few months.

" You're _really_ trying my patience, Ravess. Now, GET OUT!"

Ravess felt herself being shoved unceremoniously towards the door, and prepared to be _physically_ thrown out of the room, when the door opened.

What a scene it must have been to behold – she, with her hand twisted behind her back, and face flushed with rage (and she was probably still red in the face form last night's drinking too), and the Dark Ace behind her with his hands holding her neck and arm prisoner in an iron grip.

It was no wonder that little girl's eyes went wide, her mouth dropped, and a frightened-bewildered look flitted across her pointed features. It was a good thing the girl was young, otherwise the situation could easily have been misconstrued. As it was, it was only going to take some imaginative explanation that the child could swallow up and then forget the whole thing. It would be a really bad thing if word got back to Cyclonis that there was fighting among the ranks (especially for her, since she already had a few marks on her record). It could have been worse things though, like rumours about her and ... well, the very thought made her upset stomach squirm.

"What are you doing? Are you playing a game? Can I play!?" The little girl asked, suddenly bubbling over with excitement and her voice getting higher, so much so that it almost squeaked. The shrillness of it was like nails on a chalkboard, with a migraine.

"Uh, no, Lilith. I was just helping Ravess here out. She can't walk very well today, see?"

Ravess unexpectedly felt the iron grip on her let go, and was almost sent sprawling onto the floor. It didn't help that the bastard gave her a good shove out the door. Talk about rude.

A look of sudden understanding seemed to overcome the little girl's features. "Ohhhhh, okay! Why can't she walk? Is there something wrong with her? Maybe she should go see the doctor."

"Hmm, I think you're right, maybe Ravess _should_ go to the infirmary. Why don't you go inside for a minute while I talk to Ravess for a minute?" The usual dark tones seemed to have evaporated in his voice when he was talking to Lilith, but he couldn't disguise the way he spat out Ravess's name. It reminded her of how he used to talk to Celeste; easy and carefree.

When the child had closed the door the Dark Ace turned to Ravess with a nasty look in his eye. "I think that's your cue to leave, Ravess."

"Oh? You're not going to walk me to the infirmary? Here I almost believed you to be a gentleman! But I suppose you want some time _alone_, hm? Really you have some audacity to be calling such a young child to keep you company. In the middle of the day no less. I would think you wouldn't want people to know your such a creepy, pervert. Celeste would be ashamed of you."

Dark Ace's face went white, then flushed red, and his eyes almost bugged out of his face. "You ... you ... dear Lord Ravess, I'm not ... I AM NOT ... I would NEVER ..."

"Yeah, yeah," the red-haired woman mumbled as she walked away slowly, "I believe you ... maybe ... not. I'll see you around, if I'm unlucky."

"Ravess!" Dark Ace yelled at the woman's retreating back, "Just keep one thing in mind! I might have made a promise to someone to keep tabs on you, but that doesn't mean I like it one little bit! The next time you get drunk I'm going to make your life living hell!"

Ravess was almost done the hall and out of earshot, but she waved at her old rival to indicate she heard him. "Yeah, yeah, I believe you ... maybe ... not," she muttered to herself.


	4. Sisterhood: Reprisals

Sisterhood pt.3

Ravess was extremely angry, angrier than she usually was. And it had most of the Talons cowering, especially the little cadets who couldn't scuttle fast enough out of the way when she glowered down the hallways. It even had most of the veteran Captains giving her a wide berth. Apparently word had gotten around about the arrow accident with her archery instructor.

The only ones that seemed to be immune to her malicious mood was Dark Ace, and Master Cyclonis. Oh, and the little brat that was accustomed to tagging behind the Dark Ace – leading to much below-the-belt comments on his sexual preferences on her part. She didn't do it too often, more than one vicious fistfight had erupted over the matter, and she hated being hospitalized.

But she hated one thing more than hospitals – the Dark Ace. The man was infuriating. She had gone weeks without a stiff drink. There was no point, any satisfaction was sucked out of it – she was always dragged out forcibly before she got even decently drunk by her hated rival. Hell, half the time she wasn't even _served_ in bars anymore, nor could she pay someone else to buy her liquor for her. Every damn Talon was too _chicken_ of the man who called himself the _Dark Ace_. Big whoop. They all needed to get a backbone. The man called himself the _Dark Ace_, what kind of pussy name was that? Certainly not a name to strike fear in people's hearts, like it sure seemed to be doing.

That bastard was just too damn smug and arrogant. Oh, what she would _give_ to knock him off his high horse. She'd go to the point of physical violence (even murder) if it was necessary. Anything, as long as she could finally get to back to drowning herself in cheap alcohol in a filthy dive. Without her crutch she was in constant emotional pain. If someone was to thrust a Striker crystal right through her heart, that would hurt less than the feeling of having her heart being shred away piece by piece with every sharp and cutting memory of Celeste.

It was amazing she was still sane, but her sanity was always in question, so maybe it was not such a surprise.

And she was _damn _sure that Ace was enjoying every suffering minute she spent in her dry hell.

At first she had swore, kicked, bit, and fought dirty with him; she had stopped that behaviour has soon as she realized that he was enjoying her public humiliation far too much. So she started getting sly, actually trying to be a role model Talon, all the while contemplating vengeance. She had several plans that worked quite well. One of her favourites was pushing a rusty nail through the heel of one of Ace's boots, and then causing an alarm to go off. In his rush the almighty Dark Ace jabbed the nail a good inch into the bottom of his foot. It turned out the man could really scream like a girl given the right incentive.

The memory made her smile deviously, making the scant few in the mess hall skitter nervously around her table, as if they feared her wrath, and so they should. She wasn't above harming bystanders in her cruel and possibly fatal strikes at the Dark Ace. Everyone knew the animosity between the Dark Ace and her had increased tenfold, most assuming it was jealousy over his new promotion and title, and no one wanted to get caught in the crossfire when they finally clashed – they were both infamous for their vicious tempers.

What made it really terrific, though, was the fact that fellow Talons knew, _knew_, that she was gunning to take the Dark Ace down, despite the possible military and political repercussions of harming one of Cyclonis's _pets. _Even the Ace knew, but did he have proof? Of course not, she was too good for that. Celeste had always told her she had the skills for detailed planning and executing perfection, but Ravess doubt her old mentor had meant those skills to be aimed against Ace.

"What the hell are mumbling about, Ravess? Your mashed potatoes look at you the wrong way? Hey you going to eat that?"

Instinctively Ravess composed her face into a neutral expression, panicking it might be a superior officer, until her brother dropped himself in the seat opposite her. Fixing him and icy glare, she pushed her plate away to Snipe with disgust. How her brother could stomach the repugnant dinner the Cyclonian army fed to it's Talons was beyond her: the food was little more the pig slop, with tasteless vitamins added in attempt for healthiness.

"What's got you all twisted up? You've been mad for weeks," Snipe asked between mouthfuls, spitting out food faster than he could shovel in. _ Disgusting_, was her lone thought.

Sighing, Ravess replied in her condensing tone reserved especially for her dull witted brother, only he could be so thick, "I'm not _mad_, as I told you before, I don't get mad ..."

"You get even," Snipe finished for her. "So who's the unlucky bastard who pissed you off this week, or is it still Brine?"

She gave Snipe a long look, "Not Brine, the Dark Ace. The arrogant son of a bitch changed it, remember? And what makes you think I have any issues with our old _friend_?"

"The fact that you're sober, and have been for awhile. Wait, friend? I thought you hated him?"

It took a great deal of control not to roll her eyes, only her brother could be so thick. "That has nothing to do with it, and I don't hate him, I loathe him. There's an important difference."

"Uh-huh. I never really got what always got you so angry. Or maybe I do. You were Celeste's favourite, and then along comes lil' Brine and Celeste's got herself a new pet. That was years ago, and Celeste's been dead for a year. How 'bout letting go?"

Ravess's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Let go?!" Oh, how she wanted to scream at her brother, and beat him down for his idiocy. Only _he_ would suggest such foolishness.

Snipe continued seriously, but the effect was ruined by the constant act of shoveling food into his mouth. "Yeah, let go. Celeste wasn't that terrific anyways, sure she was a good Talon, but, to me, she always seemed to be a bit spoiled. You know what I mean?"

Sudden fury filled Ravess; her fist slapped down on the table, making the cutlery and plates rattle. All she saw was red. It took several moments to shake the red from her eyes, but the unvented rage still boiled beneath her skin.

"How dare you! How _dare_ you!" Ravess whispered fiercely, "Don't you have a single shred gratefulness in that thick-boned body of yours?! Do you have an iota of an idea where we would be if Celeste had never come along? I know, I know exactly. We would still be in that dirty little hovel of a house in that little disease-ridden village in the middle of nowhere on Terra Amazonia – living in poverty and doing _disgusting _things to get our next meal, with no hope of bettering ourselves. But where are we? We're in Cyclonia, bringing about a new era with Master Cyclonis. Who do we owe for this? Celeste! Without Celeste we would be nothing; nothing!"

Ravess still could feel the shudders of anger and rage shudder through her. She wanted to destroy something, feel something break in her long-fingered hands. Instead, she fled, exiting the mess hall in long strides, and plowing through anyone who got her way whatever rank they held. She wanted to hurt her brother so badly, but she knew from experience that the guilt lasted longer than the justifications.

Ravess stalked down the halls in murderous fury. She had hoped the exercise might abate her rage, but she was still as angry as before. Her brother was such an imbecile. Ravess wanted to know where on earth Snipe had the gall to slander Celeste and rip it out of him with her fingernails. They owed Celeste _everything_! She had taken the two Amazonian orphans out of poverty and molded them into Talons. That alone ought to deserve respect. But no, her brother wanted to make little of what Celeste had done. They would be nothing, living a shell of an existence. Ravess knew that if Celeste had never wandered into their shameful little hometown that she would have never experienced true joy, or know what it was like to live. Her brother was an unthankful ingrate.

Ravess could feel the rage boiling again with her vicious thoughts. She needed destruction or risk self-destruction.

Opportunity provided itself with a hastily closed door.

Ravess could not help but spread a malicious grin across her features as she sauntered into the unlocked quarters. She knew these rooms fairly well. The sterile white washed walls should belong to a hospital, and the lack of furniture declared itself as the Dark Ace's room.

A lot of damage could be done, on an emotional and possibly political level; Ace hated having his personal space violated, and who knew what naughty little secrets he had stashed away that could hurt his career? It was like Christmas, without the rum.

Ravess dug through the drawers, under the bed, and the closet; it was squeaky clean, not even a damn dust bunny. It was terribly frustrating and did little to balance her mood.

She turned to leave with an irritated sigh when something caught her eye –the corner of a plain little wood box sticking out of behind the headboard. She wanted to smack her forehead for her own idiocy, that was such an obvious place to look!

Without any hesitation the archer snatched the box from its hiding place and was prepared to take a leisurely peruse through the contents when she heard the smart clicking of Talon issued steel-toed boots. Sudden panic made her blood run cold. She had enough black marks on her records (not that she _really _cared) and if she was caught in a superior's room she might finally face very _severe _punishment, especially since the Dark Ace was Master Cyclonis's new pet.

She made a dash for the window, and cringed, she had forgotten how high up she was – twenty feet in the air was a long fall. The sounds of footfalls came closer and Ravess felt herself faced with a difficult decision – get caught and wished she was dead, or try to make an escape and actually land up dead. She favoured the second option.

She fiddled with the latches until they were unlocked, the footsteps ever closer, and went to throw the window open. Panic was replaced with horror. The windows were nailed shut! What kind of paranoid idiot nailed a perfectly good window shut?! Horror was soon being replaced by sheer terror. Maybe she could make a dash out the door? Make a run for it? But no, instead her terror stiff hands grappled with the window, fingernails clawing at the wood. Maybe all it needed was a little bit of force ...

"Ravess?! What the _hell _are you doing!?"

The violinist twisted around in panic but sagged with relief. It was only Snipe. She wasn't going to get caught.

Preening herself and acting as if she didn't see the destruction around her, she replied, "Nothing really, I was just leaving."

Ravess made an attempt to walk past her brother with box in hand, but he quickly barred her path with an outstretched arm.

"Ravess, this is _the _Dark Ace's rooms! Are you suicidal?! He's going to freak when he sees this! Do know what he'll do to you?!"

"Snipe," Ravess said to her brother in her best consoling voice, "_Brine _doesn't have the backbone to do anything, he's just a puppet. Besides, what he know won't hurt him. Now come along, it's late."

Snipe made an attempt to argue, "But it's..."

"It's late; let's _go_." Ravess insisted, almost hissing. She could see her brother struggling in his eyes, until he finally acquiesced and followed her out of the room. Snipe always landed up listening to her, sooner or later. They didn't bother to close the door.

**Author's Note:**

I kinda feel bad for taking forever to update. I've been on a slight unofficial hiatus, but I'm going to to try and do better, and update more frequently. And this arc with Ravess is taking much longer than expected, and for that I'm sorry, but there'll be only one more chapter from Ravess's point of view (hopefully) and then will move onward to another batch of characters, hopefully MC/Lilith and her big brothers. So you have that to look forward pretty soon, if I ever get my act together. And thanks to each and everyone who's read this and a greater thanks to all those you review. I really don't deserve it with my inability to be punctual with updating.


	5. Sisterhood: Endings

Sisterhood pt

**Author's Note:**

**This is chapter has also been un-betaed, so there's bound to be mistakes. Disclaimer: I do not own Storm Hawks.**

Sisterhood pt. 4

The red-headed archer had spent most of her night reading the box's contents. Most of it was boring – pictures of Dark Ace's deceased sister and mother, one picture of a violet-haired girl, a feather, documents legitimizing his promotion and Talon officer status, and a photo depicting a young Ace (back when he was still known as Brine) with an older red-haired man whose face had been scratched out so fervently with a pen that there was a hole. The last photo was a curious thing, but since it didn't pertain to her current quest it was a fact to be reviewed later. The only thing of any true interest to her was half a dozen letters that written in a hand that Ravess instantly recognized as Celeste's.

Her heart had stopped in her chest when she had seen the writing, the sharp pang of seeing a remnant of Celeste had made her eyes threaten with tears. Until she had read what was scribbled down; that had mad her want to lose her lunch. Of all the things Ravess thought she might find among Ace's personal belongings, love letters had not even been a consideration. But that was what exactly what she was provided with – love letters.

Love letters -- from Celeste to the Dark Ace, more importantly.

There was a collective _ewww_ sounding off at the back of her mind.

Despite her disgust, Ravess had made herself scour through the letters looking for any subtle hint that could lead to the Dark Ace's dismissal from the Talons. All she found were many written passages that made her blush at their provocative tone. The only serious paragraphs seem to discuss the progress of Celeste's mission at the time of the letter. Ravess wasn't able to discern many details but it sounded like the generic mission that all Talons (well, the decent ones anyway) were placed with – they had to protect or acquire something. From Celeste's letter it sounded like she was in the process of both – her goal being vaguely coded as _criança_. Whatever the heck that was supposed to mean, she seemed to remember it from somewhere, though. It was, however, classic Celeste to use some obscure word that no one knew what it meant.

Likely, though, _criança_ was nothing too unusual, maybe a rare crystal or something. In fact, the letters Ravess held were useless to her malign intent; there was nothing criminal about the contents or a result of being in possession of the contents. The only person that could get in trouble for the letters (aside from Ravess, who could be held accountable for theft) would have been Celeste, and that would have been for disclosing classified information. The Talon superiors were notorious for being secretive. But it was no harm no foul now, of course. Celeste was long since dead and could no longer be punished.

The only devious purpose she could concoct for the letters was holding them ransom over the Dark Ace's head. It might be enjoyable to extort him and watch him squirm in shame. Ace was a private man; Ravess could always hope he'd die of embarrassment if the juicer contents of the letter were leaked. Worst case scenario would be he'd brush it off and then fight back with avengeance. The man was so finicky about having his personal space violated. He tended to get violent.

Sighing with exhaustion from her late night, Ravess carefully replaced the contents to their proper place in the box and the stashed underneath a loose piece of flagstone underneath her bed that housed a little hole. Anything that was considered contraband to the Talons she kept safe there. Once upon a time she had kept her emergency stash of alcohol there, but that stockpile had disappeared long ago.

When she returned to bed for a quick nap before the morning practices she didn't even remember having her head hit the pillow.

MWMWMWWMWMW

_She was a young girl, thin from starvation, all angles with her bones sticking out against her skin, and she was covered in dirt. Her only outstanding features were her fierce golden eyes and brilliant mop of violet-red hair that showed through the dirt. Beside her, Snipe was smaller than her, but just as dirty. He was an entire head shorter than her, had he really been so small once?_

_There was the taste of blood in her mouth, and her knuckles were scrapped. Her bow and arrows lay broken and forgotten in the mud several feet away. She was swaying on her feet, her vision cloudy in one eye. She snarled like a feral cat, pushing Snipe behind her – her brother clutched a rough satchel to his chest._

"_You can't have it! It's ours!" She screamed, her voice high and oh so young sounding._

_In front of her two men in the green and red uniform of the Cyclonia Talons stood in front of her. One had lost his goggles and was sporting scratches on his face, while the other held a hand that was bleeding from a crescent-shaped bite._

_The one without the goggles stepped closer: Ravess pushed her brother back farther as she stepped away from the man. _

"_Now, come on," the one without the goggles said, stepping closer again, "don't you want to support your Empire? Just hand over the food and we won't hurt you."_

_Ravess knew a lie when she heard one -- they would hurt both her and her brother as soon as they got what they wanted. She opened her mouth, hissing like a cobra-snake she once saw, and held her hands in front of her, her fingers curled into claws. There was dark blood underneath the nails and it wasn't hers._

"_Go away!" She screamed, seeing both men flinch a little, "this is all we have! Go away!"_

_The men inched closer, coming in towards them in a pincher movement. It was hard to keep track of them both, with her one eye blurry. She just kept pushing her brother back. She was glad Snipe hadn't dropped the food and run yet, he usually did. Maybe he was finally tired from eating rotten food. She could feel him crowding against her back, whimpering; she hated it when he did that. It made it difficult to move, and she didn't want to trip. She couldn't afford to – that little satchel held the only decent meal they had seen in weeks._

_One of the men made a sudden dash towards her; instinctively she forced her brother to flee the other way, hoping they could lose them in the forests. She didn't see the other man strike from the side her bad eye was on. All she knew there were hands tightly wrapped in her grimy hair and her brother was whimpering about how his arm was hurting. She felt being thrown to ground, quick kicks in her stomach she felt next. She tried to scrabble away: biting, scratching and kicking at the foot that kept kicking her mercilessly. It did little good, only aggravating her attackers._

"_Stupid Amazonian shit, think you're better than us?" She thought she heard a distant cracking noise, like the sound of branch snapping, she felt a warm fire spread in her chest. She felt dizzy. There was pain, a lot of it._

"_What on earth are you doing to that poor girl!?" A female voiced screeched._

_Ravess could feel the two men back away from her instantly rather than see, being facedown in the mud as she was. She felt gentle hands cup her face and turn her towards the sunlight. She saw the sky reflected in the most beautiful blue eyes she had ever seen._

"_I send you a simple mission to commandeer supplies and your beating up little girls!" The female voice screeched again. Ravess could see the voice belonged to the own with the blue eyes staring into her yellow ones – the woman's mouth were forming the words but she sounded far away._

_One of the men stepped forward. "We were, but that _brat_," the man spat, "was pilfering our supplies! We told them to shove off and the little wench bit me! I'm a Talons Officer, I _deserve_ better respect than that from some little whelp and her little shit brother on a backwater Terra."_

"_How was she able to pilfer our supplies? Weren't you paying attention?" The woman asked, her voice hissing between her teeth. Ravess could still feel the woman's cool fingers cradling her head._

_The other man was stuck for an answer, so was his companion. They both tried to mumble responses, but nothing clear. It was pathetic, in Ravess's mind. She knew how to lie good and proper. More tan once her life and her brother's life had been dependent on her lies._

"_Hn, don't bother. I know _perfectly _well what you two were busy doing – commandeering a different kind of merchandise from the locals if I had to take a guess."_

_They tried to protest, but they were interrupted. "I don't care what the hell you do on your own time, but this _my _time here that you're wasting. Next time I tell you to do something, do it right and don't go hitting children when you fuck up. Just be grateful I don't write you both up. Now get!"_

_Ravess could hear the pair bolt like rabbits. _I wish I could be like that – have people listen to me, do what I say, _Ravess thought numbly._

_Ravess could feel the cool fingers running over her face, being extra gentle on the bruises and cuts. Normally Ravess would have struck out by now. She hated being touched, people only wanted to touch her when they wanted to hurt her. But not this woman; she made Ravess feel safe. _Safe_, Ravess thought, manipulating, twisting and contorting the word and what it meant in her mind. Safe was not a common word in Ravess's experience._

"_What's your name, little one?" The woman asked._

"_Ravess," was all that the red-haired child was able to spit out, her mouth tasting like blood and feeling swollen._

"_Ravess," the woman crooned, it was lullaby in the girl's ears. "Ravess, what a pretty name for a pretty girl, if I ever have a girl I hope she's as pretty as you."_

_Ravess felt herself blush from the flattery. It was the last thing she felt before the darkness finally came._

Ravess awoke, sweating. Ragged breathes tore into her chest, she could remember the pain from the broken ribs. _It's just a memory, Ravess, get a hold of yourself!_ The red head yelled mentally at herself -- she was tired of remembering, of grieving. It had been so hard lately, without the alcohol numbing her system, helping her forget, it was her shield. It had protected her from the memories, if they started coming back, every little thing reminding her of Celeste: if she started dreaming of Celeste again Ravess knew she would crack. And she would, she knew she would – to love someone so completely and then to have them ripped away, it was all too painful. The Dark Ace wouldn't understand if she tried to get back to her old drunkard habits, he'd just stop her like before. That bastard didn't feel pain. He _had_ betrayed his old squadron easily enough, how could the death of his lover possibly pain him?

A sudden knock at the door made Ravess flinch reflexively.

"Hey, Ravess, we've got early morning drills. If you're late again the Captain is going to give you a new one!" Her brother called from the other side of her door.

Ravess sighed. "In a minute."

She quickly wiggled into her uniform, giving a slight shudder of distaste at the red-and-green jumpsuit. What the Cyclonis family had been thinking when they decided these would be the royal family colours she had no idea, maybe they had been colourblind. Not that it would matter anyways, she was bound to get mud caked all over herself, and the shit-brown wasn't worse than olive green and maroon.

Sighing again, Ravess headed out feeling the poor start to the day was only the beginning of her problems.

MWMWWMWM

Not only had that day been a bad day, but the one after that, and the one after. Ravess stopped counting the wretched days after the first few weeks. Her dreams had become more vivid, she was remembering again. The colour of Celeste's eyes in the twilight, the way shadows would play across Celeste's face, how she had laughed. She was even remembering how Celeste had _smelled _(like the earth after a good hard rainfall on Terra Amazonia, rich and warm). It was tearing her up from the inside.

Her first instinct had been to go straight to the bottle. That had only worked the first night – she had caught Ace off guard, he had thought her complacent – but after that it was nigh impossible for her to get even a whiff of alcohol. The bastard had even hidden all the rubbing alcohol and mouthwash.

It only got worse. She was terrified of sleeping, knowing she would see Celeste, have the memories in her dreams, but she so desperately desired to have Celeste back that at times she couldn't wait to go to sleep. It hurt more, though, to wake up from a beautiful memory and be surrounded by the ugliness of reality. Celeste was dead. There was nothing wonderful in the world anymore.

Ravess blamed the Dark Ace for her pain, of course. If he didn't have those letters in his possession she would have never read them. She had been able to push the pain of Celeste to the back of her mind by hating Ace, it was the only thing as strong as the pain, but once she read those letters … seeing something of Celeste survive had ripped a new hole in her. It was like Celeste had died again.

It was no surprise that her performance at drills dropped; or, more accurately, plummeted. Even when she had been smashed twenty-four-seven she had been able to at least function enough to appear like a proper Talon. Now, she wasn't even able to pretend, the pain of grief was too distracting. She was being written up daily for poor performance and disorderly conduct. She was violent with everyone; she had already put a dozen of minor officers in the hospital ward. She wasn't allowed anywhere _near _the Skyrides or the weapons (even the harmless one for training practice).

She was going to lose her position as a Talon, and that meant one of two options: she would be either executed or imprisoned. Her heart gave a little flicker of panic at the thought, being a Talon had provided one of the few moments of happiness in her life, but it quickly died under the crushing agony of sorrow. She couldn't find the strength to care anymore. She couldn't even collect her thoughts enough to insult Ace creatively anymore.

She knew the end would come soon and she welcomed it.

MWMWMWMW

Cleaning the engine parts for the Skyrides was a disgusting job normally. Cleaning the parts after a bloody battle made it so much worse. Doing said cleaning job with scabbing lashes across one's back and bruises on one's knuckles made it only that much worse. Ravess, it was suffice to say, was not the least bit pleased, not that she was anyways pleased anymore.

This was her final warning, and punishment – she was forced to clean the Skyrides after a rebellion in Terra Tundras had been crushed (a gory mess), but not before giving thirty lashes and a rod slapped across the back of her hands a couple dozen times. All because she had punched a superior officer in the face; the old buzzard she had struck deserved it, of course. What he had said she couldn't _quite_ remember, she just knew it had been rude. That explanation, surprisingly, had not gone well with the officers responsible for her punishment.

The next time she fucked up, though, she had been explicably told that she would have an appointment with Master Cyclonis. That would not go well. But she had to ask herself, did she really care anymore? She didn't have anything to live for anymore, really. Did it matter if she died as a pathetic shell of an existence as a Talon or died by the hands of Cyclonis? She was afraid of the answer, afraid of rediscovering the dark part of herself, the part that she thought had died when she had left Terra Amazonia.

She remembered the day so vividly.

_She was on war airship, and it was huge. She was marvelled out how big it was -- her entire village could have lived quite comfortably in it. The only the amazed her more was the reflection of herself that she had caught in the glass in one of the portholes. _

_She had only ever caught glimpses of herself in a murky puddle once and a while and never saw anything special. Her hair was purple-red, matted and long, her eyes yellow, and she was skinny as a rail. Nothing special, she looked like every other poverty stricken Terra Amazonia brat, someone that would die eventually under a boot or die from a disease picked up from whoring._

_Now, though, she could see something different. Her hair and skin was clean, and she could tell she had a paler complexion than most from Terra Amazonia, and that her hair had a nice colour to it when there were no leaves or twigs in it. She could also she her face clearly for once; her hair had been cut short, it had been the only possible way to efficiently get rid of the knots and long matted hunks of hair that now no longer hung in her face. Her clothes were different too; they actually properly covered her and were clean. It felt odd to have cloth constantly chafing against her skin. She wasn't too sure if she liked it or not. She looked better than she thought she was._

_It was hard to believe that the girl, the one who stole and fought and bled, was looking at her. That the little Terra Amazonia brat was on a fancy Talon ship: she couldfinally eat regularly, she finally got help with Snipe. Was she still the same under the new clothes – was she still just a filthy urchin from the backwaters of Amazonia?_

_She had been staring at her reflection so intently that she didn't hear someone come up behind her._

"_See something interesting?" The voice was amused. It made the blood in Ravess's veins hum contently._

_Ravess whispered quietly. "Uh, nothing ma'am, it's just we're so high up." _

_Ravess felt a comforting hand on her back. _

"_I thought I told you that you could call me Celeste. If you keep calling me ma'am I'm going to feel so old!" Celeste laughed lightly._

_Ravess blushed, "I'm sorry, ma – uh, Celeste."_

"_Now that wasn't so hard, now was it?" There was another light laugh from Celeste._

_Ravess shook her head, still blushing a little, she wasn't sure why, though. She looked for something to cast the attention off her._

"_Uh, Celeste? What are those birds way over there? The ones that are sort of hovering?"_

"_Oh, those are larks. They're birds that nest on the ground, yet you can always find them singing really high in the sky. They have the loveliest voices," Celeste sighed._

"_Do you like larks, Celeste?" Ravess asked, getting over her nervousness._

"_Oh, yes. You could say they're my favourite bird. They are so totally free. If I ever had a daughter I'd name her Lark, just in the hope that'd she become as carefree and joyous as those birds."_

"_Oh," Ravess said, a little disheartened. "Would you still want me around, then, if you had a daughter?"_

"_Of course! I made you a promise didn't I? To help you become a Talon, to teach you myself? Don't tell me you changed your mind already!?" Celeste sounded a little hurt, but there was playful tone to it that didn't fit. It was like teasing sarcasm._

_Ravess quickly tried to take back what she said. "No! I want to stay!"_

_Ravess looked up to see Celeste give her a smile. "That's good; I think you'll make a wonderful Talon and a great student. I don't think you'll have to worry, though, about there ever being a Lark."_

"_Why is that?" Ravess could see a wistful sadness in Celeste's eyes._

"_I'll tell you when you're older."_

_There was a long silence._

"_Celeste?"_

"_What is it, Ravess?"_

"_If you do ever have a daughter, can I help? I was really good at helping my little brother. I'm sure I could be useful. I promise!"_

_Celeste smiled again and Ravess felt her heart rush to her throat. "I'll hold you to that promise, my little Ravess."_

That had been so long ago. It was one of the few times that Celeste had made plain her wish for a child, a daughter preferably. As promised, Ravess learned later on in life why there never was going to be a Lark. Talons weren't allowed to have children; it was a distraction from their greater purpose.

"Hmm, I wonder what you would have looked like, Lark." Ravess wondered aloud, taking safety in the fact that she was alone in the garage.

"How do you know my name?" A small voice asked.

Ravess whipped around, and her golden eyes met dark phthalo-blue ones.

**Author's Note:**

**Okay, really sorry for the delay guys! I've been really busy lately with school and I also sort of hit a wall with this story, it'd really be helpful if they started airing episodes again. Then I could get some inspiration. Also, I'm going to increase the rating from T to M for this fanfic just because of the really rough language and the tendency for violence. Better safe than sorry. **

**Okay, this was supposed to be the last chapter with the whole Sisterhood arch but I'm finding myself in the position where I have to write another chapter or be forced to make a super long one. Since I think you guys have been most patient I thought it best to give you a chapter now, and hopefully another one in a few weeks instead of giving a huge one. I have to pace you guys. **

**Oh, muffin points to the first person who can guess what **_**criança **_**means. Oh, and how do you like my interpretation of Ravess's and Snipe's history? Too angsty, too unrealistic? (And if you haven't guessed, I modelled Terra Amazonia after a 3****rd**** World Country. From the Storm Hawks show, Terra Amazonia sounds like a terrific place to vacation, but I'm finding that most vacation places usually have a very rough side to them that the tourist never sees. This is just my experience though). **


	6. Sisterhood: Realizations

Author's Note:

Author's Note: I do not know own Stormhawks, I just love playing with the characters. (Note: I made changes to the preview description -- check it out! It's much better in my opinion!)

Sisterhood pt. 5

"_How do you know my name?" A small voice asked._

Ravess blinked slowly, looking at the little girl in front of her. On her knees as she was, she was just at eye-level with the toddler – dark blue eyes staring with child-innocence into her golden ones. Despite the innocence that lay in the child's eyes there was something there, glimmering underneath the depths. It was intelligence, and something that Ravess had seen reflected in her own eyes as a child, and Snipe's and Brine's – an old soul; the direct result of seeing too much evil in the world at too early of an age.

"You're gonna get in trouble, people aren't supposed to call me that. Father says so." The girl had her arms crossed over chest and her head cocked to the side. It was an all too familiar stance.

Ravess felt her gears in her mind jar to a stop, and her voice die in her throat. The archer suddenly realized that the fascinating shade of blue in the girl's eyes was more than coincidence. It was suddenly all falling into place.

_Celeste was standing over her, trying to look disappointed but the smile flickering at the corner of her lips betrayed her. They were sparring, and, as usual, Ravess had had her ass handed to her by Celeste. Celeste's cheeks were flushed from the exercise and there was that always present sparkle in her brilliant blue eyes. How anyone could think the woman plain was beyond Ravess. Ravess's heart was racing from more than the exercise._

"_You okay? I didn't hit you too hard, did I, Ravess?" She crossed her arms over her chest and cocked her head to the side, and the smile hidden in the corners of her mouth finally broke free._

"Hey, lady, you okay? You look bad."

Ravess snapped out of the memory, and stared at the child with her jaw dropped. Her eyes gazed hungrily at the child's features, comparing the shapes and contours with the precious memories of a beloved face. Lark's face still had a child's plumpness, but that didn't hide the shape of her lips, or the shape of her eyes, or the way she carried herself, or the way her hair fell into her eyes.

_Oh my fucking God,_ was the only comprehensible thought running through her head. And it was set to broken record mode.

It was impossible. There had to be some mistake. Her mind was playing tricks on her. She was just simply projecting a fantasy onto a similar face – making conclusions that didn't really exist.

_Oh, my GOD, _was the continued thought running crazy circles in her head.

The girl, Lark – it had to be Lark, _oh god_ – just stared bemused, her arms still crossed and head tilted. There was a pout now, and her finely shaped eyebrows were furrowed to convey a frown.

The features that Lark had inherited from her mother were obvious now, if Ravess wasn't totally delusional and completely projecting. Her body was still in the paralyzed state of shock, her mind still reeling, when the obvious question popped in her head.

_Who in the bloody hell is her father?_

Her mind went back to the letters hidden safely under her bed -- the ones she had stolen -- and her stomach dropped in horror when she remembered one _tiny_ word, plunging her mind into an old memory.

_They were at the usual tavern, the one a few Klicks west of Cyclonia, having a celebratory drink. Ravess had finally graduated from a Talon academy student to a full-fledged Talon. There was only three strong drinks emptied next to Celeste but she was already well on her way to having a painful hangover the following morning. The fact that they were cheap drunks was something that Ravess and Celeste shared._

"_Celeste?" Ravess asked shyly._

"_Hmm?" Was the drunken response._

"_Do you … think I deserve this?"_

"_What?" Celeste turned her head to Ravess, her attention caught despite the unfocused look that was slowly creeping into her eyes._

_Ravess waved her hand dramatically. "This. Being a Talon."_

_Celeste snorted. "Pfft, of course, sweetie. You're better than most of the losers that they let in. Prettier too."_

_Ravess couldn't help but blush._

_Celeste laid her head on the table, a wide drunken smiling plain on her face. "Você é uma boa criança, Ravess …boa … criança."_

_Ravess looked at her mentor, confused at the words meaning. She thought she recognized the sound of them from somewhere, but it was hard to tell with Celeste's voice slurring._

_Celeste closed her eyes, "I said you're a good girl." Her smile widened a little more, and even provided a saucy wink. "My parents were colonists on Terra Amazonia," she said as if was a secret that explained everything._

Ravess felt a shiver run down her spine._ Criança – _the word echoed in her head with Celeste's voice.

It meant child_._

_Oh, dear GOD, _was the resounding thought in her head, competing with the memory voice of Celeste. It couldn't be. It wasn't _fucking_ possible. No way in hell that _he …_

Ravess stared dumbly at child: Celeste's daughter.She felt completely numb -- it was all too much, too painful. Ravess faintly wondered if the twisting her stomach meant she was going to be very _very_ sick very _very _soon.

"Lilith? What are you doing here? You _know _the hangar is off-limits." It was a familiar voice, one that was drawing closer. Ravess saw Talon regulated steel-toed boots step into view. Lark's head reached the man's knees.

The little girl had to crane and twist her head upwards to look up and behind her at the man. Ravess's eyes stayed on Lark's face – that was now beaming with a smile -- knowing full well who had stumbled upon them.

"Crane is sick, and can't play."

The man sighed and crouched down so he was to even with the child, conveniently bringing his face into Ravess's view. As she had suspected, it was the Dark Ace, and his face was in perfect profile as was Lark's, though he wasn't calling her that, he kept on calling her Lilith. Ravess felt something bitter rise in her throat. Lilith sounded wrong; it didn't suit the little girl.

The bitterness faded quickly though, because Ravess felt her eyes comparing the two faces and confirming her terrifying revelation. The Dark Ace's nose was straight, pointed and very Roman. Lark's nose was still a little snub and maybe too big for her face but that was because of the innocent pudginess of her child face. When Lark finally started to become a woman Ravess could tell that her cute little nose would finally fit her, and be straight, pointed and also very Roman. Both their chins were also pointed, but his chin was rough with three o'clock shadow. They also shared a strong forehead, which Ace's short, swept-back hair style proudly showed and Lark's moppet haircut hid. The obvious similarities were suddenly laid bare, but so were their differences. Ace's lips were thin, where Lark's were full, and her mouth just a little wide, just like her mother's. Ace's eyes had creases in the corner, and were narrow; Lark's were almost gently almond shaped, sloping upwards just ever so little, like a cat's eye, and rimmed darkly with thick eyelashes. There was also that distinguishing mole under her eye.

The child's face bore proudly features from Ravess that both loved and hated, and now that she had made the connections and completely realized the truth she wondered how stupid she had been not to notice the obviousness of it all. Lark was the perfect combination of her parents.

"RAVESS!"

The violinist snapped out of her reverie, and found herself face to face with a very pissed off Dark Ace. His features were twisted into an aggravated snarl, and it was a look like this that would have sent Ravess into a swirling mass of loathing, but she found herself only able to conjure a little dislike. Oh, good god, she was starting to hate Brine less. Hell had finally frozen over.

"What is _wrong_ with you?" The man hissed, clearly annoyed.

Normally, at this point she would have retaliated with a calculated and scathing retort but the only thing that her mind could summon up was a question – _do you know? _

Ravess held her rival's gaze for a few more seconds before it flickered back to Lark's, her mind continuing its mental comparison. She completely missed the look of horror that was held briefly in Ace's eyes when her features unconsciously softened, similar to the way an aunt looks at a favourite niece.

The Dark Ace stood up suddenly, causing Ravess to flinch out of reflex. It was those damn Talon drills – they could make anyone jumpy.

"We need to get you back to your rooms, young lady, before someone starts missing you." Ace proffered his hand out to the little girl.

"Awww, do I have to?" Lark asked, but still grudgingly reached for the older man's hand.

Sighing a little, Ace responded, "Yes, Lilith, you do. And _you …_"

Ravess flinched again at the spiteful tone that was directed at her, and found her golden eyes, still wide from her earlier shock, being balefully bored into by Ace's red ones.

"_You_ have work do, so stop slacking," Ace spat before stalking off with presumed-daughter in tow.

The violinist had the sudden desire to confront the man right then there, to cause a scene: to yell and scream and bitch at the unfairness of it all. More importantly, to tell him to stop calling Celeste's daughter _Lilith _and use the girl's proper name.

But, she reined it in, with a great deal of effort. No one could say that Ravess couldn't be patient when she needed to. And she needed to. The situation was delicate; it had to be handled carefully.

She knew what she had to do, though, and the sudden sense of purpose that smouldered in her blood burned away all her previous doubts and grief. She was still weighted down by Celeste's death but Ravess finally found herself able to think about moving past it, to move forward.

It was time to fulfill a certain promise.

MWMWMWWM

When the Dark Ace walked in, Ravess instantly knew she had caught him by surprise. But then, who wouldn't be surprised to find an annoying rival sitting on their bed as if they had all the right in the world in their locked room. She also instantly knew that he was extremely pissed. She could see the shock die quickly in his eyes and his lips press in a grim line, eyes narrow and eyebrows pull down. His fists clenched and unclenched in a quick repetition before finally settling into curled fists. Oh yeah, he was definitely pissed off: in the royal catergory.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing in here? I could have you suspended for this, you know," growled Ace, staying by his place at the door.

Ravess reached behind her to reveal what she held – the box, with everything it contained still within it, that she had 'borrowed' from the Dark Ace earlier that week.

"Just returning something," Ravess responded blithely.

Eyes narrowed dangerously, Ace reached forward to snatch the box from Ravess's outstretched hand.

A snarl swept across the man's face. "_Thanks …_you can leave now."

Ravess shrugged nonchalantly and hopped off the bed.

She gave another blithe response, this time giving a sardonic smile, "Your welcome."

She made for the door, the Dark Ace moving out of the way to let her pass, but she stopped when she was even with him.

Staring straight ahead she spoke. "I've never liked you, did you know that?"

"Feeling's mutual," was the hissed response.

Ravess shifted her stance, placing a hand on her hip. "Don't you want to know why?"

There was a mordant tone in Ace's reply. "Not really, but, lemme guess, you're going to tell me anyways."

Ravess couldn't help stop the grimace that graced her features. _Ass, _was her single thought in response to his tone.

Sighing, Ravess gathered her thoughts to continue. "Everything seemed to just get handed to you and it wasn't enough, and I couldn't understand it. Where do you get off being so ungrateful?"

She felt Ace bristle in anger, she certainly had raised his hackles quicker than she expected.

"Ungrateful!? You have no _idea _…" snarled the man, his voice escalating in volume.

Ravess cut the tirade short, before it had any chance to gain steam. "Yeah, yeah. Both your mother and sister were murdered when you were only, what, five? And you blamed yourself so you vowed to make the Atmos a better place in honour of their memories and blah blah blah. The Sky Knight of the Storm Hawks takes a shine to you, treating you like his own son, and you get to join the _best _Sky Knight squadron of the _entire _Atmos. You met Celeste, and then you went and had a little spat with your beloved Sky Knight, so you went and got them offed and then joined the Talons and into Celeste's waiting arms. Have I got the story right so far?"

Suddenly, Ravess felt her back slam against rough wood, and found herself effectively pinned to the door with rough hands around her neck.

The timbre of Ace's voice had plummeted, and had gotten deathly quiet – the calm before the storm. "You don't know _shit_, Ravess, so stop pretending that you do, and do me a favour. _Fuck. Off._"

The red-haired woman just let a twisted smile play on her lips, pretending that she didn't feel long-fingered hands threatening to crush her throat. "Oh, so sorry that abridged version of your life offends, but I don't want to waste a lot of time here. Besides, we're getting to the good part. See, as soon as you got into the picture my life started to suck. I was Celeste's student, her protégée, so to speak. I worked hard for that woman, I loved her. I wanted her respect and attention and love. But then you come along, and I started to take a backseat to _you_;the most pathetic excuse for a man I ever laid eyes on. What kind of man kills his family … _twice_?"

At this point she felt the fingers wrapped firmly around her throat twitched painfully tighter and there was a low snarl tearing through her captor's throat. She was starting to see stars.

Her voice was starting to get raspy from the lack of oxygen, but she forced to herself to continue; she might as well finish her little speech before she went unconscious. "And here comes my favourite part. See as disgusting as it is, you both start getting cozy, and then … BAM! Celeste takes off without a word to anybody. You pretend like nothing happens, and my world goes to hell. They catch her, of course, execute her, but not before she confesses to stealing a Master Cyclonis's heir. You also get promoted to babysitter. Funny how things work, eh?"

Ace's face fell slack, he was clearly not amused, but the muscles at the corners of his mouth tightned, "Yes, ha ha ha. It's hilarious. Almost as funny as the shade of blue you're turning."

Ravess half-expected for her rival to physically toss her out the door at this point, but he didn't. He just stood there; hands tightening around her throat. Panic was starting to bleed into Ravess's cool demeanour. Breathing was really starting to move from the "painful" to "difficult" category. _He wouldn't actually kill me would he?_

She kept waiting for him to let go but he wasn't, and she was pretty positive that she was a very complimenting shade of oxygen-starved blue at this point. She tried to keep calm, but she still found her hands starting to scrabble and pull away the fingers twined her throat in such a deadly steadfast fashion. She kept trying to reassure herself that there was no way that the Dark Ace would actually kill her. _Oh yeah, because you two are the bestest best of friends, right?_ Her inner mind scoffed.

Her dieing had certainly not been in any of the scenarios that she had thought the particularly nasty conversation might end.

Suddenly the pressure eased off, and she was gasping sharp, lung-filling breaths of air. Her eyesight was spotted with black, and her fingers cautiously touched her throat. She could already feel the large swollen bruises that were starting develop.

_Fucking asshole! _Ravess thought, severely peeved, not to mention more than a touch frightened. She really had thought for a minute that the Dark Ace was going to kill her.

Drywashing his hands (like he had touched something disgusting and wanted it off), Ace backed away with a detached smile twisted on his face. "Ravess, I don't care about your sad little life story, I have better things to do than to listen to you whine. So the next time I tell you to fuck off, do yourself a favour and go do it. Got it?"

Wheezing heavily, Ravess nodded slightly.

"Good," Ace said, moving back into his room.

Ravess didn't even give him the chance to reach for the door handle before she was in front of him, invading his personal space – her face leering into his own.

Her voice was rough and raspy but she was managed to whisper, "I hate you for one simple reason. You never earned anything; everything you ever got was handed to you. The Storm Hawks. The Talons. Celeste. Lark ... but wait, she's called Lilith now, isn't she?"

The look of pure horror and shock that spread across the man's face was worth every single bruise that was ringing around her neck. She would have walked on _glass_ to see that look.

It didn't last long though. The Dark Ace quickly composed himself, stifling any escaped emotion. His voice still sounded a little too tight and clipped to be completely natural, though. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about, Ravess."

She could feel an evil Cheshire smile spread across face. "Of course you don't, Dark Ace. Just know this – unlike you I will _earn _my place. Sure, you might always come first, that's fine. I can settle for second, just because I worked for it. Got it?"

Ravess's golden eyes peered into Ace's darker ones, trying to read his reaction. Did he understand? Did he consent? Not that it really mattered whether he did or not. She certainly didn't need any of his help.

The Dark Ace finally nodded uneasily, his eyes agreeing to the subtly-hinted alliance between the two. It was a fragile moment of peace, the first one that either had actually ever felt in the other's presence. It lasted only for a moment, before Ace muttered a low "whatever" and proceeded to shut the door.

Ravess found herself alone with her thoughts. The whole confrontation had gone worse and better than she had ever hoped. Fingers lightly caressed the bruises on her neck as she walked away. The bruises would fade away, but Ravess knew what had occurred, the unspoken coalition between her and the Dark Ace would not.

Now that the hard part was done, she had the fun task of fixing her abysmal track record. It was going to be lengthy process, one that she wasn't going to get much help on. But like she had said earlier, she was going to _earn _her place by the Cyclonian throne – even if she wasn't the most loved, she would be at least the most loyal.

**Author's Note:** Finally! We're done with Ravess's POV. I'm glad we're finally done but I'm gonna miss it, just because I love writing Ravess as some vindictive, jaded, violent-oriented woman. Her dialogue and frame-of-mind is so awesome to write – it's wickedly sardonic. So yeah, from who's POV do want to here from next? Dark Ace/Brine? The brothers – Crane, Shrike, and/or Ibis? Shout it out and lemme know!


End file.
